Paradise
by avrilcourierVI
Summary: Is the wasteland outside the door of Vault 101 really the land of death and misery she had been raised to know it as? Or is it what she really needed all her life? Doesn't matter now... she's forced into it, and she'll have to make the most out of this "lost paradise" of the Old World in order to survive. Rating subject to change. My first ever Fallout fic (you've been warned).
1. Open Doors (Prologue)

Prologue - Open Doors

She loved it when he ruffled her hair, but hated when he left afterwards. Why couldn't he stay home? Why did he have to leave and not come back for so many hours? Why was it the same thing every day?

The door opened, he left home and her alone. She always stood for five minutes looking at that door. To say that she stared blankly at it was a misunderstanding. In her mind, she wished, no prayed, the door will open and her father will walk back inside to play or spend time with her. Did that ever happen? No. But did she still do it anyway? Yes.

She told herself not to be selfish of course. Her father was the main medical and science professional in the vault, her so-called home that she shared with a dozen or so other people, and people usually needed his help or a piece of machinery needed some time, love, and care. Curious as she was, she wondered if he would ever take her to work with him for she had a fascination with machinery and technology, but not so much in medicine.

Of course she was only five, and technically couldn't say her father was being mean by leaving her at home. Five-year-olds and life-sustaining technology don't mix apparently, at least that's what the Overseer says. Honestly, she always thought the vault overlord was trying to keep her and her father seperated. Her father did say that the Overseer had a right to hold a grudge against him, but for what he wouldn't say.

But the one good thing about the Overseer, was that he had a daughter about her age: Amata. Amata and her got along well and were usually inseperable when the kids were allowed to play together. They fantacised over Grognak, roleplayed as pre-war characters, and even shared their thoughts on what the world outside the vault looked like. Their thoughts of course brought ridicule from the boys, or at least some of the boys. The one heavily implanted in her mind was Butch Deloria: her good ol' bully and nosebleed-giver,

She tried to be nice to Butch, but he was always oppressive and aggressive towards her. Granted Butch didn't have a dad, so he was probably jealous of her and Amata for both having one, but he did have a mom, something she wished she had. Her father always told her that Butch's mother was not the best of women and that she was probably unfit to raise Butch properly. Apparently, she has a drinking problem. She couldn't help but feel sorry for Butch, but she knew the last thing he wanted was pity.

While she tried to be nice to Butch and his gang of friends, Amata was vehemently hostile towards them. Amata hated them with a burning passion that she could not fathom. Butch's gang did harass them differently however. She received nosebleeds and rude names; Amata received flirtations and unwanted attention, as well as mockery. She tried to stand up for Amata, but that usually ended in her getting a nosebleed and her glasses, another source of mockery, broken. When inquired about it, Butch always admitted to his deeds, but brushed off punishment like dust on his jumpsuit. She hated it, but there wasn't anything she could do about a kid who didn't, and still doesn't, care.

So now she sat there, elven years older and much more matured. Her glasses sat on her nose and her long champagne hair fell past her shoulders. Her pale porcelain skin was practically flawless except for a bout of acne (typical of a teenager). She definitely was not as developed as Amata or the other girls, but she was in no way without assets. Besides, if they got bigger, they would get in the way or cause undesired back problems.

She sighed after staring at the door for the usual five minutes, and grudgingly got up out of her chair and grabbed her school bag. Though the teacher wouldn't admit it, she was the best student in the whole class, mainly cause she did as told without question and did it right. "Goody-two-shoes" as Butch would call her. At least that was better than "Nosebleed".

The door swooshed open and she stepped into the main halls of the vault. It closed behind her and she headed towards class. Class was usually uneventful except on days where they studied chemistry and physics, but those were every once in a blue moon due to the "safety of the vault" regulations.

Amata stood outisde of class, flipping through one of her textbooks frantically. Whe she neared Amata, the tan skinned girl looked up.

"Chryssy! You're here! Oh my... god! There is a quiz today!" Amata freaked and averted her head back to the textbook.

'Chryssy' hated that nickname. As far as she was concerned she hated all her nicknames (except the ones her dad gave her). She preferred to be called 'Chrys', but nobody, not even her dad, called her that.

"I know. He said so yesterday." Chrys said.

"What!? When!?" Amata exclaimed as she shut the book with the force of a thousand door slams.

"When you were oggling Freddie Gomez." Chrys teased and made a heart shape with her fingers. Amata blushed, but her darker skin made it hard to see.

"I was not oggling Freddie! He was just sitting in a peculiar pose." Amata tried to comeback, "Okay! I was oggling him."

Chrys smirked and rolled her eyes, "I knew it. The quiz shouldn't be hard, it actually sounds pretty easy."

Amata laughed a nervous laugh, "Yeah, but you're the smart one, you have no right to say that."

"Yeah, but-" Chrys began, but she heard the telltale sign of footsteps that made her stop. So many footsteps at once probably meant the Tunnel Snakes were coming. "We should probably get into class."

Amata obviously heard it too. "Yeah. Good idea."

Before the two girls could reach the safety of the classroom, someone coughed behind them as if to get their attention. Chrys had no desire to turn around, but the oh so familiar teasing voice of Butch demanded it.

"Nosebleed!" his nickname for Chrys sounded, "Almodovar!" his simple name for Amata (her last name). Chrys really hated her nickname. She turned and looked back at the four approaching teenage boys: Butch DeLoria, Freddie Gomez, Wally Mack, and Paul Hannon Jr. A venom-filled smirk adorned Butch's face as he neared. "You know you two are late for your weekly harassment."

Amata put her hands on her hips and frowned, "And you are late for school. O h wait, that's right. Your brain can't handle school like the rest of us."

Butch's smirk died down, "Shut it Almodovar. You don't want to make a snake angry."

"Yeah, remember the last time you made a snake angry?" Wally threatened. Chrys shuddered as she remembered how much time she had to spend on the supply closet lock, it was a sad day.

"Oh. You're gonna stuff me in the supply closet and give Chrys a nosebleed? Can't you guys think of anything new? Better yet, can't you guys grow up and leave us alone?" Amata said back at the boys. Chrys rubbed her wrist, really wanting to get to class right now and avoid any conflict.

"Amata, let's just go to class." Chrys piped up. Butch smirked at her.

"What's the matter Nosebleed? Afraid of us?" Butch asked as he made a gesture to the other Tunnel Snakes. Chrys looked down at her feet when she responded.

"No. I'm not afraid of you Butch. I just want to go to class without any problems." Chrys said, her voice betraying her true fear of the boys. If it came down to a fight, the boys would surely win against her and Amata. Butch laughed.

"Not afraid of us huh? Well now, it looks like Nosebleed Winchester has finally got some backbone!" Butch teased. The other boys laughed along.

"... At least I don't need a fake organization to make me strong." she said, not knowing at all what compelled her to say that. The words felt jumbled coming out of her mouth, but she couldn't really stop them if she tried. This time Butch looked at her with an angered expression.

"Well let's see how strong you are then!?" Butch sneered.

"Butch I-" Chrys began, but the sudden impact of fist with nasal cartilage stopped her before she could finish. The impact sent her falling to the cold metal floor of the vault.

"Chryssy!" Amata cried, "You assholes! Leave her alone!"

Chrys looked up, and everything was blurry. Her glasses must have fallen off either when Butch punched her or when she fell. Looking down, she did see a small blur of crimson below her. Reflexively,she pressed her jumpsuit sleeve to her nose to try a stop the blood from getting everywhere. A crunch then sounded as a dark blur came in front of her.

"Oops! Sorry Nosebleed. Looks like you'll need some new glasses... again!" Butch let out a triumphant laugh. Chrys felt so weak and useless. In fact, she felt like she wanted to cry. She wished she could get used to this, but after awhile she just wished all of this could stop.

"Hey! What are you all doing!? Get to class!" a voice sounded. Chrys recognized it as their teacher. The dark blur that was Butch left her vision. Chrys slowly stood up. A hand came down on her shoulder, "Winchester, you need to go to the med bay."

Amata spoke up, "Can I take her there?"

"No Miss Almodovar. I think Miss Winchester can get there by herself. You need to get to class." their teacher said and removed his hand from Chrys' shoulder.

"But she can't-" Amata started.

"Class now Amata. Chrysanthemum, go to the med bay."

"Yeth, sfir." Chrys responded.

Amata sighed, "Fine!"

Chrys watched as the two blurs dissappeared into the blurry hole on the blurry gray wall. Chrys sighed. After being punched so much, and her glasses being lost or broken so many times, navigating the vault to the med bay has become second nature to her. She set off down the blurred hall.

When she reached the med bay, she was greeted by Jonas Palmer, her dad's assisstant. "Chryssy? What are you doing here shouldn't you be at- oh. Oh man. Tunnel Snakes again?"

Chrys could only nod. She felt if she was going to say anything, she would burst into tears. The blur that was Jonas got up and put an arm around her shoulders and guided her to the backroom where her dad was.

"Hey James. Your little girl is here." Jonas said. Chrys could see the white blur that she knew was her father. Jonas' arm left Chrys' shoulder and she heard his footsteps retreat back to the front room of the med bay.

"Sweetheart." her dad's comforting voice sounded as the white blur got closer, "What happened?"

She sniffed. It was always the same thing that happened, but her dad always asked that question anyway. A couple tears slid down her face. Her dad's hands gently patted her arms. "There there honey. It's okay. I'll get you all patched up as always. Don't cry sweetie."

This was just like always, but unlike the past times she came there, she cried. Butch's punches and insults never made her cry. The Tunnel Snakes' constant harrassment of her and Amate didn't make her cry. Her many nose- blood- stained- clothes never made her cry. No, the straw that finally broke the camel's back was that no matter what she did in that damn Vault, everyone seemed to dislike her in some way, shape, or form. True, there was Amata, Jonas, and James (Chrys' father), but other than them everyone disliked her or were indifferent towards her. Hell, her birthday party when she turned ten was filled with cold shoulders and suicide poems. The only memorable parts (well the good ones) were Amata giving her a Grognak the Barbarian comic book in mint condition (no pages were missing) and her father giving her a BB gun (and telling her he fixed it using a spring from Butch's switchblade).

As far as she knew, she didn't intentionally do anything to make people hate her. She tried to be nice to everyone, even Butch, and she tried her best to stay out of trouble, though Butch usually caused trouble that involved her. Other girls, she knew, weren't jealous of her in any sort of way. She was not a starlet or pin-up girl like Amata or Susie could aspire to be. She had no glorifying assets like them. Again, her face showed bits of acne that most other girls had the grace to not have. So why did people not like her?

More tears spilled from eyes and soaked the bandage that her father had covered her nose with. She didn't care if they messed up the bandage, she didn't care about anything really other than wanting to know the answer to her question. Rather than fus over the bandage, her father just stood in front of her (she was now sitting on an examination table) and let her cry. She was thankful for that, somehow she felt she just needed to let it all out. And what better place than in front of her father?

A soft touch touched her arm, and slowly rubbed her arm in a soft and comforting gesture. A rather simple gesture, but it helped more than anyone could imagine. Like the "kiss it to make it better" saying she heard when growing up. As if he read her mind, her father pressed a soft kiss to her head: what he always did when she was sad.

"Honey. People don't hate you." James said as he continued to rub her arm.

Chrys sniffed, "B-but then why d-do they always t-treat m-me differently?"

James sighed, "You aren't the only one the - what are they again?- Tunnel Snakes pick on. Anyone outside of their gang is at risk of being bullied by them."

"So why am I picked on the most? Tell me that." Chrys said, wiping her nose with a tissue she procurred from the nearby table.

"You want to know what I think?" James raised an eyebrow. Chrys nodded her head in response. "I think Butch is jealous of you."

"Him? Jealous of me?" This time Chrys raised an eyebrow, but in confusion.

James nodded with a thin smile. "Yep. He wants what you have probably."

"What do I have other than you?" Chrys asked. Her father probably was the only thing she could genuinely call hers.

"Maybe he's jealous you have a father. Maybe he's jealous of how you do much better in school than he does. Maybe he's jealous of how Mrs. Palmer gives you sweetrolls on your birthday." James explained, then he rubbed his chin for a moment, "Maybe he's jealous of not being the apple of your eye."

Chrys couldn't help but laugh, "Dad, the only man I'll ever love is you. Remember? I made that clear thriteen years ago."

James smiled. "I know sweety. I remember. But one day, one of the boys here in the vault will catch your eye and you will fall for him."

Chrys stuck out her tongue and faked a gag, "Bleh! I have to like one of the guys in the vault."

"I know you don't really like any of them sweety, but when you are older all of this gang stuff will be immature to them and they'll stop. Then you'll start to like one of them." James explained.

"You're just messing me with me dad." Chrys said and poked him on the chest.

"It's how the world works." James said.

"No, it's how this vault works." Chrys said.

A crestfallen look fell on James' face. "I know this vault is the only life you've known, but outside is a dangerous place dear. In here you are safe..."

She cut in, "... in here I was born. In here I will live. In here I will die. I get that picture dad. We say it everyday at school. And I don't want to go outside, I like it in here... when I don't have to deal with the terds."

They both laughed. Remarkably, Chrys felt much better now. She wasn't sure how here father had that affect on her. He just had to talk with her and she felt fine. Then again, her father had that ability to make anyone feel good or better. He had good people skills. Make that amazing people skills. Or maybe it was because of his role as a doctor.

Maybe... he was just an amazing person overall.

1 month later

"I see a perfectly healthy sixteen-year-old girl. Simple as that." James said as he set down his examining instrument. Chrys sighed.

"Do I have to take this test?" Chrys asked.

"Everyone has to take the G.O.A.T. Chrys. No one gets out of it." James said, "Relax, it's not a hard test." He tapped a finger against his temple. "Just use your common sense and knowledge and you'll do fine."

"But what if I..." Chrys began.

"It's impossible to fail the G.O.A.T. sweety." he responded.

Chrys pouted a bit. "What if I don't get..."

"Honey, you're going to be late for the test. Don't worry about it." James said as he helped her off the exam table and gestured her out the door of the med bay.

Chrys couldn't relax for her life. The GOAT dictated what her occupation as an adult would be. She dreaded the thought of becoming a garbage manager or something along that line. She gulped. James patted her on the back as a final reassurrance and sent her on her way.

'_One step, two step, three step, four step. This test only dictates your whole future Chrys. Five step, six step, seven step, eight step. How bad can it be?"_ she thought as she made her way to the classroom and pushed her glasses back up her nose. They _always_ fell when she was nervous. When she rounded the corner, she (expectingly) found Butch and his gang talking to Amata. Chrys sighed. _'Even on the day of the G.O.A.T. Butch. Even on the day of the G.O.A.T.'_

"Leave me alone Butch." Amata said as he made a reach for her and she swatted his hand away. He recoiled with a smirk.

"Come on Amata. You've got love handles for a reason. Let me handle them." the vault greaser said as he shook his hand.

Chrys walked up to the group. Butch and Amata turned their gaze toward her. Amata brightened up a bit. "Chryssy! I'm glad you're here. It's about time a mature head showed up." She emphasised the 'mature' part.

"We are damn mature enough Almodovar and don't you forget it!" Butch said through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, well, why don't you start acting like it?" Amata asked.

Chrys didn't want another pre-class crisis, especially not before a test this big. Granted, a crisis would get her out of taking the test knowing how it would most likely turn out. She stepped inbetween Butch and Amata and faced Butch with a stern look that she didn;t quite know she could muster.

"Butch. We all have the G.O.A.T. to take. Unless you want to waste time and get a poor score and end up as a trash collector, which I will then happily watch as Amata throws trash in your face, all of us need to get to class." Chrys stated.

Butch stared at her with furrowed brows. She wanted to gulp, but she guessed if she showed any insecurity or underconfidence, he would gain the upper hand with it. Finally, after a minute, Butch popped his leather jacket collar.

"Alright boys, let's not waste our time with these two and go take the stupid test." he said and walked towards the classroom.

After the "snakes" were out of view, Chrys let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding back. Amata patted her on the back. "Hey, you did it! You stood up to Butch."

"Yeah... I... I guess I did." Chrys said, somewhat shocked.

"Well come on! Let's go before _we_ become trash collectors." Amata said and tugged on Chrys' sleeve.

Chrys laughed and followed after Amata. She definitely didn't want that to happen.

3 years later

Chrys plopped down on the ground in front of the sofa. The bowl she carried was filled to the brim with potato crisps. Her dad sat next to her. He held a box of snack cakes for them to share. Each of them had two Nuka-Colas. Why they weren't sitting on the couch, neither had any idea.

"So what movie did you find dad?" Chrys asked.

"I thought we'd watch a classic for old time's sake." James said.

They both turned their attention to the small TV screen. Chrys remembered the movie well. It was about Christmas, family, and the due process of law. They had started watching the movie every year ever since she was nine. She liked it and it always made her wish the Vault still celebrated holidays. The Overseer saw them as obsolete. Half way through the movie all of the snacks and drinks were gone.

Chrys felt her father's eyes on her. She turned to look at him. He had a soft smile, but his eyes showed a different emotion. Sadness? Regret? She couldn't tell.

"Daddy? Is something wrong?" She asked worried.

He sighed, "No sweetheart. Nothing is wrong. It's just that I got your papers that issue you your own vault room this mornning."

She knew those would be coming. She was nineteen now, and that meant time to leave the nest. Her little family of two had been dreading the day it would happen.

"So... when do I leave?" she asked.

"In a week they'll ask you to move your things. Then it's another week after that." James said like he had remembered the exact directions to a tee. Then again what father could forget the paper that forcibly kicked his daughter out of the house? Definitely not her dad.

She rested her head on his shoulder, "I'll be fine daddy. If I want to see you, I'll just go to the med bay after 'work'." The G.O.A.T. placed her as the jukebox repairman (well woman). She had been puzzled by that due to the fact that there was only one jukebox in the entire Vault. And it never broke. And it wouldn't be hard to fix. And it was a rather insignificant occupation. Which meant she didn't really have to go to work. Oh the faultiness of the infamous G.O.A.T..

"Do you want to help me pack?" Chrys asked her father softly. It might be the last thing they'll be able to do together while living in the same assigned house.

James smiled, "Sure. But for now, let's finish ther movie huh?"

Chrys giggled, "Okay Daddy."

3 Days and one Vault chrisis later

It wasn't supposed to happen. It never should have happened. It shouldn't have even been conceived. But here she was, with Amata, standing infront of the Vault exit. The door that never opened, until recently that is.

Jonas was dead.

The Overseer had gone mad.

Her father... he left. They never did get to packing her stuff.

"Come on Chryssy. We've got to get this damn thing open." Amata said as she went to the console to their left. Chrys didn't question how Amata knew how to open the Vault door. Then again she was the Overseer's daughter.

"Amata..."

"Not now Chrys. You need to get out of here." Amata frantically struggled with the console as she continued, "If my dad finds you, he'll have you killed like Jonas."

Chrys looked down to the floor. Was all of this her fault? Was it her dad's fault? All this death and disorder? Why?

She looked up. The door made a resound creak as it started to shift. It made her think back to those days when she was little, when her father left for work. However, now he wasn't there to ruffle her hair, to say goodbye, or to tell her that she couldn't follow. Now the door was opening, and she was free to follow in any way she wanted to. Could she do it? Would she do it? Would she rather face the Overseer and death?

Bracing, she took one last look at her best friend and nodded. "Goodbye Amata. I'll miss you and this place."

Amata had a wry smile, "Bye Chrys... you're right. 'Chrys' does sound better than 'Chryssy'" Chrys could only smile wider. _'You realize that now when we'll never see each other again? Amata, you have too many dates with irony.'_

Finally, the Vault door opened.

_'No. I'm not ready!'_


	2. Hello Megaton and all who inhabit it!

Disclaimer: Bethesda owns Fallout!

Sorry that these chapters are so long, when I get off of break, I might make the chapters a bit shorter. It's kind of hard to tell when I don't have a word count while writing this.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1 - Hello Megaton and all who inhabit it!

It was now or never. Do or die. To be or not to be.

It was a lot harder of a decision than deciding whether to get out of bed in the morning or not. A lot harder! And definitely when there was not as much time, or knowledge, or lack of motivation. There was plenty of motivation: Dad, freedom, and being able to escape her best friend's homicidal father who was out for blood. Her blood that is, not anyone else's, just hers.

"GO!" Amata called. "They're coming!"

Chrys could only look back for a second, when the sound of approaching steps sounded. The Vault police were coming. She looked ahead and charged forward, toward the opening. She crossed the threshold and ended up in a cave, made of a strange surrounding material. Rocks? Was that what they were called? The sound of the Vault door shutting distracted her from her questions. Looking back, Amata had closed the door behind her, stopping the prusuing officers. They weren't brave enough to go out of Vault 101, then again she wasn't really either, but they didn't have the leave-or-your-oh-so-grand-Overseer-will-kill-you reason to leave.

Of course, looking behind yourself while running left you susceptible to rather embarassing moments if not careful. For a clutz, careful was not her middle name.

BAM!

'_Why is there a wooden door here!?'_

Well, it wasn't all wood, but given the circumstances she didn't really care. "Huh?" She looked up to find the cave was shielded off with a poorly constructed wall of wood and various peices of sheet metal. She pushed the actual door part open. Letting in light, and a greatly unneeded amount of it too.

Light never hurt this bad, but it also never warmed her this much either. It was strangely odd, yet comforting in a different kind of odd way. The good kind? She hoped so. Plus the light wasn't white like the light in the Vault. Rather than white, it was golden yellow. And when the fresh-out-of-the-vault teenager looked to the sky, there was no ceiling.

'_AH! WHERE'S THE CEILING!? WHERE'S THIS LIGHT COMING FROM!?'_

After some observation, she decided it came from the big golden lightbulb up in the sky, that (also through observation) she found hurt her eyes when looking at it. This definitely was not the Vault.

Finally pulling away from the light, and after her eyes finally adjusted, she saw... rocks. Not exactly just rocks, but dirt and various rocks scattered about on the hillside. Odd. It crunched under her boots as she took a couple steps away from the door. It was a knew feeling underfoot. She almost gave in to the urge to yank off her probably smelly boots and sink her feet in the dirt to figure out what it actually felt like. But the possible asperity that would waft from her boots was enough of a turn off.

Besides... the dirt wasn't going anywhere anytime soon; and by the looks of it, there was a heaping lot of it. _'One day maybe, when my feet are odor-free, but not today. Today, I got to find Dad.'_ It was easier said than done and she knew that she wouldn't find her MIA father in one day. From what she could garner from the situation, he knew this wasteland, she didn't, not in the slightest except it had rather appealing dirt and a giant floating lightbulb.

With an exasperated "huff" she moved her pack off of her shoulders and set it on the ground so that she could make inventory of her supplies. After a moment, she had inventory of her smattering of supplies. A 10mm pistol (graciously donated by Amata), a baseball bat, her BB gun gift, her Grognak issue gift, two Stimpaks, a Nuka Cola, her PipBoy 3000 (which had been bonded to her wrist since the age of ten), her jumpsuit, her glasses, and a handful of bobby pins and ammo were her supplies that she would have to use so far in this wasteland.

_'I can do this. I'm sure I have more than anyone out in this wasteland could possibly have in their possession!... wait. Are there other people out here?'_ It was a perplexing question. She only knew of two people: herself and her dad. That was all she knew of. And where would she begin this quest to find her dad? She didn't know which way her dad went. And how would she know how much of a headstart he had on her? Luckily, her PipBoy device had a map. She wasn't sure if it had adjusted to the Wasteland,but she couldn't help but try. Hopeful, she lift her left arm to look at its screen to find that the map had indeed adjusted! This place was huge! A small green square marker designated the location of Vault 101 and a solid green arrow showed her position.

It took a moment for her to see the faded square marker near her location. She poked it with her finger and faint green words appeared below it: Megaton. Good, there was a town nearby. Hopefully the people there were nice. With another "huff" she puffed her cheeks out and puckered her lips. _'Now or never.'_ She set out.

1 hour later

She never realized how directionally challenged she was. The straightforward and everpresent directional signs of the Vault probably didn't help her improve on her navigation skills growing up. Chrys had walked 20 minutes in the West direction instead of the East direction she was supposed to be going. So she spent 40 minutes getting nowhere, and 20 minutes walking in the right direction... hopefully. Her arrow marker was getting closer to the Megaton marker thankfully, so she had to be getting close now.

As if the Wasteland read her mind, a large gargantuin object appeared in the distance. It looked dark with the sun rising behind it; hard to believe it wasn't even noon yet. _'Eureka!'_ With a burst of energy, she ran towards it at a decent speed. Sadly, her clutz nature kicked in again.

She never knew about small cliffs and drop-offs until she ended up face down in dirt at the bottom of one. "Ugh. Why me?" she groaned and spit the foul-tasting dirt out of her mouth, luckily her glasses fell off her face in the fall and were otherwise, undamaged. Granted, she had to spend a minute or two feeling around in the dirt for them. When she came across them, she regretted putting them on.

Standing infront of her knelt-down form stood the ugliest, pinkest, and most buck-toothed creature she had ever seen. It was about two feet from her face and eyed her with odd curiosity. Chrys had no idea what it was, so she just smiled and reached out a hand toward it. "Hey there little fella. Want me to pet you?" she voiced nervously and her stretched out hand started to shake with the nerves. Her greeting got a vicious 'hiss' in response and the quadraped reared on its hind legs in order to lash out at her hand. Its claws nicked her hand and she pulled it back with a hiss of pain.

The rat-creature charged her, and all she could think of was to run away. She got up and dashed along the perimeter of the wall that surrounded Megaton, hoping to find an entrance or help; in any which order she didn't care. Her legs pumped and impelled her over the dirt at a speed she did not know she could muster... but she doubted she'd be able to maintain it for a long time. Luckily, a red beam shot past her, and a squeal of pain sounded behind her. She slid to a stop on a sloping hill and proceeded to fall on her bum.

Rolling over, she looked back to see what had occured. The pink rat lay dead on the ground with a nasty hole burned through its chest cavity; a strange robot, which dawned a sherif's hat, stood nearby sheathing a laser attachment. Chrys pushed herself up off the ground and walked over to the robot stand by the monlith that she was sure to be Megaton. But still, no entrance could be found.

"Welcome to Megaton." A monotone and mechanical voice greeted her. Chrys looked at the robot and then back at the wall. Ever full off manners, she went up and knocked on the wall. At first, nothing happened, but then a whirring noise similar to the sound of the Vault door opening resounded and the wall began to split, revealing an indent along with a door.

"Thank God." Chrys silently prayed as she walked to the door. Nervously, she pushed one of the large double doors opened. All of the wall had been made of various large pieces of sheet metal, these doors were no different. She got it opened to where she could slide in, after which she hurriedly shut the door behind her.

"Somebody must be new."

"AH!" Chrys jumped, and screamed, and cowered, and covered her face in defense. _'Great job Chrys. Just let everyone in a mile radius know you're scared to death.'_ When nothing happened, she moved one of her arms to look at who or what was in front of her.

A black man stood infront of her; he wore a leather duster adorned with a sherif's badge and a leather sherif's hat sat atop his head. His kind yet aging face was covered in a somewhat neatly trimmed dark beard and mustache. He simply watched her with a plain yet amused look on his face. In some ways, it could also be perceived as a subtle, "What the fuck are you doing?" expression.

Chrys reverted to a normal standing position, she slowly rubbed her arm out of nerves. "Sorry. I didn't mean to..."

The man held up a hand in dismissal, "No need to explain ma'am. I shouldn't have surprised a newbie to the Wasteland."

"How do you know?" Chrys asked.

"Nobody around here wears a Vault jumpsuit. Only someone fresh out of an isolated Vault would be wearing one around here." the man explained, gesturing to her attire, which now was covered in dirt.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense." Chrys said as she looked down at her clothing. It was odd knowing that the only fashion she ever knew, was obsolete out of the Vault. Then again... she had been itching to ditch the jumpsuit every now and then.

"So, let me welcome you to Megaton. My names Lucas Simms: town sherif. Ignore those folks down at the bomb. They think it's some kind of deity or something. Really, it's just what keeps me awake at night." he greeted.

Chrys knew she had a confused expression and peered past Simms down to the bottom of the crater that Megaton was built along and down the rim of. At the center lay the most disturbing centerpiece ever: a giant undetonated atomic bomb. "Oh... so _that's_ why this place is called Megaton."

"Yeah, pretty much. I'd get someone to disarm it if I could, but nobody in town knows how, and its worshippers won't let me tamper with it. Not that I'd know how to disarm it anyway." Simms explained. Chrys tapped her finger to her chin. She made the same puffed-out cheek and puckered lip face again as she thought through all her mechanical know-how. She'd messed with generators and circuit boards and many different kinds of technology that involved lots of wires. If she could get to it, she was sure she might be able to do something about it.

"I'll disarm it."

Simms looked at her with a surprised look, he shook it off rather quickly. "If you're up to it. I could reward you for your efforts when you're done. You might want to wait until night when those Children of Atom people leave it alone."

"Sure. Uh..." Chrys began to wonder, if this was the closest town, her dad must have come through here. Surely somebody knew as to where he was going or something. "Has anyone else in a Vault jumpsuit come through here?"

Simms rubbed his chin, well beard, and cocked his eyebrow a bit, "Yeah, I believe an older fellow came through here not long ago; went on up to Moriarty's saloon for God knows what reason."

"Thank you, so much." Chrys said with a bright smile on her face.

"He left a bit ago." Simms said.

"Oh... okay." Chrys got a little bit dismayed, but her dad had been here and that was a good start. This Moriarty hopefully knew where James had gone. "Thanks anyway, somebody there ought to know where my dad went."

"The guy was your dad?" Simms asked.

"Yeah... he's missing... or I just don't know where he is, and I... I need to find him." Chrys said shyly. A gentle hand came down on her shoulder.

"Don't worry kid, you'll find him. But if I were you, I'd get what you need from Moriarty and get the hell out of that saloon." Simms warned. Chrys nodded. Her dad had told her what a saloon was: a place where people got alcohol and drank away their sorrows or had a good time. Maybe it had Nuka-Cola and she could get a quick drink! She wouldn't even try for alcohol. Back in the Vault, it wasn't allowed for those under the age of twenty-one to drink. Butch and the Tunnel Snakes broke that rule for sure though.

"Thanks again Mr. Simms." Chrys said.

Simms gave a light laugh, "No problem miss...?"

"Oh! Winchester, Chrysanthemum Winchester." Chrys said.

"That's a mouthful." Simms responded.

"I go by 'Chrys'." She informed him, "Uh... where is the saloon?"

"Moriarty's," he pointed behind them to a large building sitting on a scaffolding platform, "The entrance is on the top level opposite the main gate. Just be careful. Moriarty is NOT your friend, no matter what he may say, so don't fall for his lies. And for God's sake, don't trust the man."

"Uh... okay Mr. Simms. Thanks again." Chrys replied and headed off down the slope of the crater.

"By the way! If you're looking for supplies, talk to Moira at Craterside Supply!" the sherif called down to her. She turned and waved back in response to the top of the slope and continued on down to the bottom.

2 hours and much galavanting later

_'It's for science. It's for science. It's for science. Why did I agree to this? Oh yeah! Cause she said it was for science!'_ A toilet never looked more intimidating to her in all her life. She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. "You can do this. Just drink enough water to get radiation poisoning; you can do this."

The toilet gurgled.

"I can't do this!" She moaned and leaned against the wall in defeat. After leaving Simms and after checking out the large atomic bomb, Chrys had decided to see this Moira lady at Craterside Supply. At first, she hit it off with the lady and had a decent conversation with her, but then Moira brought up the book she was working on and how she needed help with it. And Chrys could not bring herself to say no when it came to helping research for the book. So after a little supply shopping (really a little, cause Chrys only had 117 caps), she went to go find away to get Rad poisoning so that Moira could study it.

Easier said than done.

Chrys walked out of the public bathroom in dismay and started walking back to Moira's shop when the Children of Atom preachings reached her ear. _'That's it!'_ She ran off down the scaffolding that most of the buildings were built upon until she got back to the "holy" bomb. A small puddle of water surrounded it and when she stuck the tip of her boot in, her Pipboy's Geiger counter started to go off. _'Sweet! Just got to stand in this for a couple hours!'_

Rad poisoning came faster than she expected. As she made her way (clumsily) back up to Craterside Supply, she probably looked like someone with a massive hangover. Heck, she felt like she had one too; however, it felt like her body was tingling with a painful numb sensation, like when try to get blood circulating back into a numb area. Also she had to try her best to not let out all she had left in her stomach, albeit basd on her growling stomach, there wasn't much.

So she shoved open the door to the shop upon arrival, and everything started spinning.

"Oh good! You're back. Looks like you're quite hyped up." the squeaky voice of Moira Brown piped as Chrys made her way inside and closed the door.

"Please just examine me quick." Chrys said, or she wanted to say that, what came out sounded more like grumbled and groggled undecipherable groaning. And with that, she fell.

3 hours and 5 Radaways later

Chrys slowly and painfully opened her eyes. Her Rad coma having finally worn off.

"Oh good! You're awake! You were in quite the doozy there, luckily I was able to get the needed data off of ya before the radiation started to kill you." Moira said with the everpresent smile on her face. Chrys could only lay her head to the side and sigh. She needed the caps that Moira offered badly, but this "Wasteland Survival Guide" would probably kill her before she came even close to finding her father. The first task had rendered her in a small coma for Christ's sake!

"Can I take a break from research for a couple days?" Chrys asked as she sat up and rubbed her head.

Moira giggled, well it was probably a regular laugh but with Moira's voice it sounded like a giggle, "Of course, you can research for the Guide at your own pace. Don't want my lead researcher going out and getting herself killed."

"Hehe... thanks." Chrys nervously laughed at the irony of the statement. After all, one of her assignments was to get severely injured, or to get one of her limbs crippled. The thought made Chrys shiver in horror. The sudden chime of a clock made her realize it was getting pretty late. "Moira! Do you know when the saloon closes?"

"Oh it stays open for quite some time, but Moriarty usually stops greeting guests around nine o'clock- ish. I think?" Moira said as she bent over to repair something on a workbench. Chrys got up off of the counter that Moira, or more likely Moira's hired bodyguard, set her when she passed out.

She then realized she was in her underclothes, consisting of a white tanktop and dark gray short underwear.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Chrys screamed, "WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES!?"

Moira looked up, "Oh! There on the shelf there behind you." The flustered Vault girl quickly spun around and grabbed her Vault suit, ynaked it on, and zipped it up, making sure nothing else was amiss. Her pack sat on the floor by the counter and she hoisted it onto her shoulders.

"Bye Moira!" Chrys called and waved "goodbye" to the eccentric mechanical psuedo scientist. Even though Moira's experiments were probably going to get Chrys killed, she couldn't help but like her. The cheerfulness of the woman made Chrys feel like she wasn't the only naive person in the whole wasteland. When she stepped outside of the store however, she was met with something breathtaking.

The sky... it looked as if it was alight with fire! So many warm colors cascaded across the sky and they got brighter the closer they got to the rim of Megaton's wall. Strangely, the giant lightbulb in the sky had disappeared. She turned around multiple times looking for the glowing orb. But all in all she couldn't stop admiring the beauty of the sky. It was... comforting.

"You okay there toots?" a gruff voice asked. Chrys stopped spinning and turned her head to look at a grizzled old man wearing armor that appeared to be made out of leather. He had little hair on his head, but he had a beard and facial hair.

"Oh! I'm fine. Is the sky always on fire like that?" Chrys asked the stranger. He just gave her a "What the fuck are you smoking?" look. He then proceeded to shake his head and mutter "Dumbass" under his breath. Chrys didn't quite understand what that meant. She knew what dumb meant though. But before she could respond the man walked away, revealing a large gun holstered on his back. She shied away from him and head up the ramp to where she was pretty sure Moriarty's saloon was. Turns out it was a couple scaffoldings over.

An older man, about her dad's age, with crazy silver hair, a moustache, and long beard, stood leaning against the railing lining the scaffolding platform. He had a strange little white stick that was producing horrible foul smoke. He eyed her with a sneaky curiosity laced with guile attentions. Chrys walked by him and looked up at the sign on the building he stood in front of. It was Moriarty's Saloon alright.

"What's the matter there little lassy? Never seen a saloon before?" The man from behind her asked in an odd accent. She turned and looked at him. The white smoke-stick he had in his mouth now sat between two fingers and his mouth was now curved in a sly smile. This guy was really creeping her out.

"Actually... I haven't. Is it like the cafeteria at the Vault?" she asked nervously, though she remembered what her dad told her about saloons, she wanted to get a different view from someone else.

"Is it like the...?" the man burst out laughing, well more like started hooting or a rather stuck up laugh. In his bout of laughter, he flicked the msoke stick over the edge of the of the platform and keeled over in more laughter. Chrys stood there... very very confused at his answer to her question. _'Why can't anybody give me a straight answer?'_ When the man finally stopped laughing, he rubbed his eye a bit and looked at her with an amused look. "Lass, this ain't no cafe, this is where adults spend time. Alcohol, liqour, or gossip, you name it, it has it." He approached her and and wrapped a hand around her shoulders, making her rather uncomfortable. "Now based on your..." he gestured to her clothing, "... choice of attire, my guess is you're from the same Vault as that older gentleman that passed through here."

"That's my dad! You saw him? Did he tell you where he was going? Could you tell me?" Chrys inquired, beaming with happiness. The man then smiled a bit.

"Information is a commodity." He said, "About a hundred caps will do just nice." He held out his other hand, plam up, expecting the money. Chrys looked down, and then back up at the creepy old geezer's face.

"I can't give that many. I'll just go ask the saloon owner." Chrys shrugged his arm off and walked toward the saloon.

"Lass, I _am_ the saloon onwer." he said before her hand reached the doorknob. She froze and turned to look back at him. He happily walked over to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders again, pressing her closer to his side this time however. "Colin Moriarty. Pleasure to meet ya Miss...?"

Chrys gulped, "Winchester. Chrys Winchester."

"You're daddy gave you a boy's name?" Moriarty inquired.

"My name is Chrysanthemum... I just prefer to be called Chrys. Less of a mouthful." Chrys andswered quietly.

"Yeah... that is a mouthful. Anyway, I know where your ol' dad went or is going, but if you can't cough up the caps. I'm afraid your fresh out of luck." Moriarty said as he examined her, "Man, I remember when you were just a wee little lass in your dad's arms."

"What? I've never been out here before... and neither has my dad." Chrys said. Although, she wasn't exactly sure of that last part.

"Guess Daddy's got a little explaining to do." Moriarty says as he let her go and walked to the saloon door. "One hundred caps. Give or figure it out on your own."

He shut the door behind him. She stared hopelessly at the closed door in front of her. Suddenly she could here muffled screaming from inside the saloon, most likely Moriarty, that sounded like it was berating and depriving another person. It shocked her, but she felt more sorry for whoever the screaming was directed at.

She had to decide: give Moriarty more or less all of her caps, or find out where her dad went on her own. She sighed, maybe she could go inside and think it over. She opened the door to the saloon and stepped in; most men in the saloon directed their stares at her. They all held a strange look she didn't quite understand. Feeling like a fish out of water, she walked over to the bar and sat down on one of the barstools. She looked down at her follded hands in her lap, and began to think over the situation. Either get to dad faster, or waste time figuring out where he was. She didn't want to fall far behind him, so maybe giving Moriarty the caps would be easier and all around more effective. After a couple minutes, she felt a new set of eyes staring at her, and she noticed someone on the other side of the bar was standing in front of her, waiting.

Looking up, Chrys saw one of the strangest people she had ever met. He had barely any skin, or if he did, it was rotting, chaffing, or in the process of peeling off. Exposed muscle and ligaments were all over his face and the cartilage and skin that would be where his nose was, was gone. He had no nose! Or lips for that matter... or ears. There was just a hole on each side of his head. It looked all his hair had fallen off too... but there were little tufts of it placed over his scalp. His eyes were pasty and clouded and pale. He wore a grimey old white shirt from what she could see from over the bar. He looked irritated, tired, and perplexed at her, but overall, he looked exhausted.

"You gonna look at your hands all night? Or are you gonna order a drink or something?" he asked, his voice very raspy and gravely.

"Oh, sorry. Do you have Nuka-Cola mister?" She asked politely. Not really wanting to spend caps, she decided a soft drink would be good in calming her nerves. The skinless man gave her an even more perplexed look. He turned and went away for a moment and then came back with a cold Nuka-Cola. She handed him back some caps and popped the bottles' cap off. She looked at it for a moment and then pocketed it. She took a quick sip and sighed in content. The bartender shrugged and walked down to one end of the bar counter where an old radio sat. At the barstool sat a red haired woman with short cut hair, fair skin, and rather immodest clothing.

The radio wasn't really working produced only static. The bartender banged his fist on it, grumbling about how it was a stupid piece of crap. The immodest woman only laughed a bit at the bartender's attempts to fix it. "Gob, it's not the radio. The signals jammed." she said to the bartender, who apparently was named Gob.

"Why would the signal suddenly not work?" Gob asked in reply. The woman shrugged.

"Happens all the time. Signals jam or go down." she said and shooed his fist away from the radio in order to give it a breather. Chrys eyed the device with curiosity. SHe knew that she could see if it was actually a signal jam or not , but she wasn't sure as to how to approach the situation. Luckily, the red head noticed her stare. "You okay Sweetie?" she asked.

"Huh? Oh! I was just looking at your radio. I... I could try fixing it if you'd like." she offered. The red head and bartender exchanged glances and then looked back at her. The hubub of the saloon still droned on, so they shrugged.

"Sure, you can take a look at it. I'm sure it's the signal, but you never know." the red head lady said and got up from the barstool to make room. Chrys got up out of her seat, bringing her drink along and walked over to the radio. Setting down her drink, she started to examine the machine. It looked alright, so she pulled up her Pipboy and flipped it's radio on, tuning it to the same station to see if she would get similar results. Static flew from the Pipboy radio.

"Yeah, it's a signal problem." Chrys deduced. The woman let out a "Hah!" at the bartender and lightly punched him on the shoulder. He just grinned shyly and rubbed the back of his neck. She then sat back down on the barstool. Chrys stood awkwardly nearby, until the woman gestured with a smile to the barstool next to her. Chrys pointed at herself. The woman nodded.

Chrys sat down by the woman and set her drink back on the counter. The bartender looked at her with a perplexed look still. Chrys felt bad, but she wanted know what he was exactly. "I don't mean to be rude sir, but what are you exactly?" Chrys asked innoccently.

"Wait? You're not gonna hit me? Yell at me? Not even berate me a little bit?" he asked with surprise.

"No. Why would I? I don't like hurting people." Chrys responded. "I've just never seen anyone like you before. That doesn't give me the right to hurt you."

Gob looked at her with even more surprise. "Well, now that's a surprise! I'm used to every asshole smoothskin in this town giving me shit 'cause I look like a corpse."

"Smoothskin?" Chrys asked.

"It's what Ghouls call humans." The red head answered, "You know, the skin and all." She gestured between herself and Gob.

"Oh." Chrys said. "Uh... what's an asshole?"

They looked blankly at her, but the woman eventually smiled. "You're just a kid aren't you Sweetie?"

"I guess. I'm nineteen though." Chrys said.

"Guess it's the Vault isolation that's got you still innocent." the woman said. "my name is Nova by the way, and that pieace of sunshine is Gob."

"Pleasure to meet both of you. You're a lot nicer than Moriarty. I didn't think bosses could be mean." Chrys said, reflecting on her experience with Moriarty. Nova and Gob simply exchanged looks again.

"He's not really our boss. He... owns us." Gob explained.

Chrys looked at them, confused. "That's not right, you can't own people."

"Welcome to the real world Sweetie. Out here, you can." Nova said.

"And believe me, there are people in a lot worse of situations than we are." Gob said as he started cleaning a dirty glass. He looked a little disheartened at that comment, and Chrys saw his eyes slightly flick to Nova.

"But if Gob is the bartender, what do you do Nova?" Chrys asked.

Nova's lips made a thin line before she sighed and looked back at Chrys, "I provide... entertainment for the patrons with enough caps. And on often occassions, to Colin."

"Entertainment?" Chrys asked.

"You'll learn what I mean eventually." Nova said and patted Chrys on the wrist. "What's your name by the way sweetie?"

"Chrysanthemum Winchester. But you guys can call me Chrys." she answered, after which she finally finished off her Nuka-Cola.

"Nice to meet you. Thanks with the radio too." Nova said with a warm smile.

"Eh Lass! You're back." the odd accent of Moriarty called. The three turned to face him. He walked proudly up to the young Vault girl and stood expectantly in front of her. He licked his lips and then put on another creepy smile. "So what'll it be Lassy?" Chrys gulped.

"I'll pay you." she responded after a moment. She fished through her pack and handed him the one hundred caps. His sick smile spreading further as he pocketed her caps. Gob and Nova could only watch in fear for their newfound friend. Moriarty turned away from Chrys and coughed.

"Your old Dad said he was going to Galaxy News Radio. GNR. It's in the DC ruins east of here across the river." Moriarty said and started to walk away, but then he turned back around. "You two lazy assholes better not be standing around! Get to work! You got a fine to pay off and standing and chit-chating ain't gonna help ya!"

Nova muttered, "If people were paying, I would be working." Sadly Moriarty heard her.

"Nova. You're with me tonight!" he called and gestured for her to follow him. Chrys looked at Nova, who had an irritated expression, but she got up anyway and followed Moriarty. Chrys looked at Gob with a worried expression only to find him with the same worried expression ten fold. She reached out and put a hand on his own that was sitting on the counter. He looked down at her hand and then at her. His hand felt like touching rough leather with spots feeling more like smooth leather. Chrys still didn't know or understand what Moriarty was going to do to Nova, but based on Gob's expression, it was bad.

"She'll be okay. Right?" Chrys tried to comforting the worried Ghoul. He sighed and nodded.

"It's horrible what men do to her. She doesn't deserve it." Gob said as he retracted his hand from under hers so that he could start wiping off the counter. Chrys sighed.

"Is there anything I could do?" She asked. Gob shook his head.

"No one could pay off the debt we owe to Moriarty. Thanks for the offer though Chrys." Gob said with a small smile. He looked back and forth. "Moriarty'd have my head if he saw me chargin' at a discount, but for you, I'll risk it." He fidgeted around in his pocket and pulled out a couple of the caps that Chrys had used to pay for her Nuka-Cola and handed them to her. "Here."

"Gob, I couldn't." Chrys said.

"I'd rather they go to you than to that Irish bastard. Take them, at least as payment for diagnosing the radio." Gob pleaded and plopped the couple caps in her hand. SHe complied after a pause and stuffed them in her pack.

1 hour later

Chrys and Gob had spent the last hour talking about different things. Most notably Gob had described her the differences between Ghouls and humans and how society more or less viewed Ghouls. Chrys could hardly believe the bigotry faced by the Ghouls from humans. They were more or less the same as humans, they were just missing their skin, their noses, healed from radiation, and lived for long periods of time. Some Ghouls had lived from before the Great War that rendered the world a wasteland. It was amazing. Chrys could hardly believe _they_ were the second-class citizens while _humans_ were the first-class. It almost made Chrys feel ashamed of her humanity, but she still didn't quite understand why they were treated in such a way.

During a pause in their converstion, Chrys finally got a look at the clock. It was late, and she had promised Simms she would check out the bomb. She said her goodbyes to Gob and told him to carry the message to Nova as well. He waved her bye as she walked out the door. The sky was now black... well a real dark dark blue. She had never seen it before. Little glowing speckles of white dotted the sky along with a large white orb. Maybe another light bulb?

She walked to the edge of the scaffold platform and looked down over the rails at the bomb. She promised she would try and disarm it. She had to try.

A small "humph" nearby alerted her to the presence of another individual. She looked to her right to see a man she recognized. He had been in the saloon ever since she walked in. _'Did he follow me out?'_ The man wore a pale beige colored pinstripe suit with a dark hat and glasses. He looked like he was possibly middle-aged maybe. It was hard to tell with the sky so dark and with the lack of light. He eyed her, but not in the way Moriarty did. He looked at her with a deducing look, he smirked. It wasn't creepy looking either.

"I'm sorry, I'm Mr. Burke. You are?" he introduced as he held out a hand. Chrys looked down at it and then shook his hand.

"Chrys Winchester." She replied and withdrew her hand.

He smiled a decent smile and tipped his hat a bit, "I have a proposition for you. If you are interested."


	3. How about a new house?

Disclaimer: Bethesda owns Fallout!

Sorry this update took soooo loong :( And it is short compared to the others. Sorry T_T

Enjoy!

Chapter 2 - How about a new house?

_'Note to self: mysterious men have odd propositions.'_ She thought as she stood, staring up at the bomb in front of her, a detonator in her right hand, and tools in the other. While she had the detonator, the intention of implanting it, getting to a safe destination, and blowing the town sky high eluded her mind altogether. She was not one for instigating mass murder her first day out of the Vault. Karma and what not, which Chrys was a firm believer in. She, however, couldn't just say "no" to Mr. Burke's request, and her efforts to let him down easy and saying she'll think about it, probably looked a lot like flirtatious teasing. Which was horrible because she hated flirting (it made her uncomfortable), and Burke seemed to take a liking to it. He gave her the detonator anyway and left the town afterwards, promising that she'll be rightfully compensated for her services.

So now she stood there in front of a giant undetonated atomic bomb. Confessor Cromwell, the leader of The Children of Atom, had left a couple of minutes ago. He let her stay because she said she was "basking in the tangible glory that is Atom" which brought a smile to his face. She felt bad, knowing she was going to deactivate it for Simms, but it would make the town safer for everyone, and what Cromwell didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

She popped off a covering on the bomb, revealing a bunch of multicolored wires and tubes. She cracked her fingers and knuckles and got to work on the bomb. Fifteen minutes later left her with popping the cover back on. The bomb deactivated, which oddly wasn't that hard. It was just like rewiring the speakers in the Vault. Well to her it was, to anyone else it would probably be like playing checkers with a baby compared to playing it with a super computer. Shrugging, she stuck the detonator in her pack, eventually she'd probably scrap it or take it apart in order to study it. She smiled, now Simms could sleep soundly at night. Speaking of which, she had to inform the bomb was deactivated, and she needed to find a place to sleep.

It was late, and she knew Simms would be asleep with his family by now. So, she had to focus on finding a place to sleep for now. She looked around and saw nothing resembling a hotel. She shivered, the only other thing was Moriarty's. Sleeping on some scaffolding sounded more appealing. _'Maybe I could crash at Moira's?'_ That seemed to be the best bet. She hurried up one of the ramps, heading to Craterside Supply, but she hit someone.

"Sorry. I'm so sorry." she apologized as she dusted herself off. The person she hit just chuckled and she recognized who it was: Simms. She thought he would be asleep by now!

"Hard to adjust to low light huh?" Simms asked.

"Yeah. Oh! I deactivated the bomb!" Chrys said, deciding to omit the fact that Burke wanted her to blow it up. He had mentioned he had an employer with much power, which in other words she guessed meant not to mention it to anyone else. Simms smiled and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand in relief.

"Thank God. I thought you were kiddin' about disarming that thing." he said and patted her on the back. She smiled, a yawn following shortly afterward. God, she was tired. Simms seemed to notice pretty easily and patted her on the back again. "How about this: since you disarmed that thing, you can have that vacant house over there." He pointed to a large house (in Megaton standards) that was located pretty close to the front gate and sat on another platform of scaffolding. Chrys couldn't quite believe she heard him right. Her own house? She didn't even have one of those at the Vault. She almost did, but never actually got to it.

"I can have it? All to myself?" She asked.

"Well that robot butler that the last owner had is still in there, but you might be able to make some use of him." Simms said, fishing through his duster pocket and pulling out a slip of paper. "Here. The deed." She accepted it, nervously, but with a smile. She pushed her glasses back up on her nose and read the deed real quick. Short and simple.

"Okay. That solves my 'finding a place to sleep' problem." She said happily and gave the sheriff, mayor, whatever political figure Simms was, a hug. He simply patted her on the back again, handed her the key, and shooed her off so she could go get some rest in her new home. It took her a couple minutes to get to her house and she had to figure out how a key actually worked. After a little fumbling, she got the door open.

"Hello Madame!" An accented mechanical voice greeted her. She saw a hovering robot that was mainly comprised of a circular head with three "arms" and a large sensor on its front. Wadsworth was cheaply written on his hull.

"Hello... Wadsworth. I'm Chrys." She held out a hand in greeting, but remembered the robot had no actual hand to return the gesture.

"I hope this place is to your liking Madame Chrys." Wadsworth responded. The robotic servant then floated off to attend to other things in the house… whatever those were. Chrys took a tour of her own home. There was: a room for her, a spare room, a bathroom, a living room, a kitchen, and a loft. Also she found she could make a quick door in the ceiling to lead up to the roof if she wanted, which she definitely would to watch the sky be set on fire again.

She stepped into her room. There was a desk and filing cabinet as well as a bed. She set down her pack on the desk and went and sat down on the bed. She hung her head in her hands with her elbows on her knees. She had to push her glasses back up her nose to keep them on. So many thoughts were stampeding through her mind. She had to find her dad, and from Moriarty, she knew he was at GNR. But where was GNR? How would she find it? She definitely did not want to get information from Moriarty again. He had said it was in the DC ruins. But what the heck is a DC?

She sighed again. There was so much to do. Honestly, sleeping sounded real nice right now. After all it was one of the ways the brain used to combat pain. She turned and looked at the simple window that was above her bed. On her knees, she went to the side of the bed pressed against the wall and looked out the window. It was dirty, but she could see outside, she could see the wall, she could see the white glowing dots in the sky. It took a moment for her to realize it, but this was the first window she had ever looked out of. She had a feeling there would be more. She pressed her palms against the cool glass. It felt weird, it wasn't like metal. It had scrapes and jagged scratches on it, making it feel rugged and imperfect.

It was still see through though, and she guessed that was what mattered. She finally pulled away from the window and stripped down her vault jumpsuit, she looked around and saw that there were no sheets on the bed. She got up, wearing only her underclothes. "Wadsworth?" she called.

"Yes Madame?" The robotic butler asked.

"Are there any sheets for the bed?" she asked quietly.

"No Madame. I apologize." Wadsworth stated.

"Oh no, it's fine. I can use… uh." She looked around the house for a moment. "You know what? I'll just sleep in my jumpsuit. Goodnight Wadsworth."

"Goodnight Madame." The robot said as it went off to wherever he sleeps. _'Wait… do robots even sleep?'_

She plopped down on the mattress. She was so tired and she hadn't even realized it. Sleep though, gave chance of dreaming, which in this case, might not turn out so well for her. Finally, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

When she awoke, it was morning and golden light from the light bulb in the sky poured through the dingy window. It was warm and it made her want to stay curled up in bed, but she had a job to do. She had to find her dad, and she had to start soon before he got too far ahead of her. Granted, other than a couple locations, she was at a loss. Groggy, and still trying to wipe the sleep from her eyes, she got up and practically tripped over her own feet.

From the eyes of an expert of the Wasteland, she was doomed.

She could definitely use some water; luckily Wadsworth was still hovering around. He greeted her and gave her some fresh water. She drank some of what was in the bottle. From what she learned from Gob yesterday, there was not a lot of purified water in the Wasteland, a lot of the water was radiated. The fact that Wadsworth could make fresh water every now and then, she guessed was a heaven-sent. She capped the bottle and set it in her pack.

"Wadsworth?"

"Yes Madame?"

"Where are the DC ruins exactly?"

"Why they are east of the Potomac River and south a bit. Here let me program it into your Pipboy." Chrys held out her left arm for Wadsworth to inspect. When the robot finished, she looked down at her map and found an outlined marker at the bottom corner of what her map displayed.

"Do you know specifically where GNR is?" Chrys asked, hopeful.

"I'm afraid not Madame."

"Okay… well, I'm going to be going soon. Probably tomorrow and that's where I'm going." Chrys explained, granted she was pretty sure the robot didn't care. She felt like she had to tell _somebody_. She walked over to the bathroom and looked in a broken mirror and brushed her hair with her fingers. She already was dressed since she had slept in her jumpsuit. She made a mental reminder to find some sheets somewhere for her bed.

Gathering all of her stuff, well her useful stuff for traveling the Wasteland, she stuff it all into her pack and puffed her cheeks. '_Time to go._ '

"Wadsworth, I'm leaving! Keep a good eye on the place!" She called back to the robot as she opened the door to her home.

"Indeed Madame. And good luck!" the robot responded.

30 minutes later

"Good lord Madame! What happened to you!?" the robot exclaimed in preprogrammed shock as the blonde practically fell through the front door. Simms stood not too far behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder to keep her steady. She looked covered in dirt, and there was a gash on the side of her head dripping blood that had also been smeared across the right side of her face.

"She ran into some Raiders at that abandoned schoolhouse." Simms explained, "She was limping back here with eyes as wide as dinner plates, clutching her pistol for dear life." Simms had followed the girl back to her home to make sure she got there in one piece, and confiscated her gun for good measure. Paranoia after one's first Raider experience was not uncommon. Simms and the robot slowly guided her to her room and let her lay down on her bed. The sheriff took off his hat and fanned her a bit as he shook his head. Chrys looked up at him, she could tell that he knew she wouldn't get far when she had left Megaton barely a half an hour ago. And he couldn't be more right.

The crazy people, Raiders were what Simms called them, had sprung out of nowhere and started _shooting_ at _her._ She didn't do anything to them! She just walked by their little (well big) building ruins and the bullets started flying. To be honest, she still had no idea how she actually got out of there. The gash and dirt resulted from her mad dash to get away and falling down a hill that conveniently had a rock at the bottom, and a sharp rock at that. One thing she knew for sure now, was that she needed a weapon better than her pistol and the baseball bat. But she was in no condition to get one now.

After a couple minutes, Simms left, knowing she was safe and stable back in her house. He left her pistol on her desk as he excused himself. Chrys finally sat up and accepted the wet rag Wadsworth handed her to clean her face. When she finished, she slapped a bandage over her wound. Barely a day out of the Vault and she was already a bleeding mess. At least it wasn't coming out her nose.

If there were worse things out there than Raiders in the Wasteland, then she'd either need a better weapon, better training, or better yet, some help. Simms had told her she could ask Jericho to accompany her, but when he described him to her, she realized he was the man she ran into and thought she was crazy for thinking the sky was on fire. Nope, Jericho was out of the question, plus he scared her in the same way Mr. Burke kind of scared her. Maybe it was because they were just men that could easily overpower her and have their way with her. Granted any man could probably overpower her, but those two seemed they would be easily opted to do so.

She ran a hand through her hair in frustration and fixed her glasses. It was a good thing she didn't lose those, they were her only pair. How could she get to the DC ruins by herself? Granted, Simms did say she was going the wrong way. But that was where the marker led her. After some prodding, she realized it was pointing in the direction of one of the places Moira wanted her to go to in order to collect landmines.

After some time, she looked up at the window and sighed. "Daddy, I don't know what to do… I'm not strong enough to go out there. How am I supposed to find you?" Never did she think she'd be talking to a window, but she really had few options left. She had no money to buy a gun, she couldn't hire someone to help her, she had no idea how to use anything other than a BB gun, and she got lost so easily.

Exhausted, she lied down to rest. She knew she looked rather pitiful as tears began to collect at her eyes. Nevertheless, she slowly drifted off to sleep, after having only woken up from it an hour ago.

2 hours later

She awoke. Dry tear tracks lined her face. She wiped them away and sat up. A lot less spirited and a lot more discouraged to try and leave her home and Megaton. So far, this Wasteland did suck and she did miss the Vault.

She looked down at her Pipboy and made sure the marker was actually placed on the DC ruins. She traced the dotted line between it and her marker with her eyes many times. It looked like such a short distance on the map, but it would probably take her a week to get there in her condition of chronic inexperience.

After a long sigh, she got up and got dressed. Deciding that visiting Gob and Nova would probably be the best way for her to cheer up, she fixed her hair in a ponytail and adjusted her glasses. Wadsworth wouldn't let her go until she assured him that she was only going to the saloon. The warmth of the light bulb in the sky helped a bit, but she still made her way to the saloon. When she made her way in, the ghoul bartender gave her a welcoming smile.

"Chrys!" Gob waved, "I heard what happen to ya. I didn't expect to see you up and walking so soon."

Chrys sat down at a barstool and smiled, "Yeah… I'd probably be thinking the same thing if I were you." She dished out a bit of her caps for a Nuka. Gob happily gave her one, as well as a couple of her caps back. "So where's Nova?"

Gob sighed and began to wipe the counter off, as if trying to avoid the subject, "She's resting… Moriarty… he worked her hard last night."

"I'm sorry. Is it always like that?"

"No. Sometimes it's just a bunch of freeloaders get a bit of time with her."

"I still don't quite understand it though. What does she do exactly?"

Gob looked at Chrys with a rather stumped look, "She… Do I really have to tell ya?"

Chrys cocked her head to the side, "Well what does she do? Massage them?"

Gob let out a small chuckle while shaking his head back and forth, "I wish Smoothskin, I wish." He rubbed his face with his hand and then went back to cleaning the imaginary mess on the counter, "She has sex with men who pay for it. They give Moriarty the caps, and he gives them Nova."

This bit of knowledge made the imaginary mess become a reality. Nuka-Cola spat all over the counter. "WHAT!?" Chrys asked in shock as she wipes some of the drink off of her chin. Gob calmly cleaned up Chrys' spit-take. "H-how can Moriarty make her do that?"

"Moriarty can make us do anything. We're in debt to him. Not much we, or anyone else for that matter, can do about it." Gob explained.

Chrys hated it. All her life she had learned that slavery or any ownership of another human being was bad, courtesy of her father. How could anyone morally live knowing they partake in slavery? She shook her head. One day she swore she would help Gob and Nova. She couldn't- wouldn't- let Moriarty get away with treating them like this. But the same obstacle faced her: What could she do? She was just a girl fresh out of the vault with no idea how this world worked.

"You okay kid? You look like someone just kneed ya in the gut." Gob asked with worry.

"I'm hopeless Gob… I want to do things, that anyone like me is incapable of doing." She looked up at the ceiling, "How can I do anything that I promised to do, if I'm unable?" She looked back at Gob, "My dad is out there somewhere, and I can't even last ten minutes outside of Megaton. I want to help you and Nova, but there's nothing I can do against Moriarty." She hung her head, "Maybe I should just give up."

A sigh escaped Gob's lips, "You aren't a failure Chrys. You've just got to take a different approach."

"How?"

"Well, you can try going the right way this time."

Chrys laughed at that and looked up at the ghoul. "Yeah… that would help wouldn't it?"

Gob beckoned her closer and spoke quietly, "Where are you going again?"

"GNR. It's in the DC ruins somewhere. At least that's what I know."

"I've been there."

"You have?" The ghoul nodded.

"Listen, you're going to want to get across the Potomac river, and once you get to the ruins, it's best to travel through the metro tunnels that are underground. There are some… creatures in those tunnels that you'll have to fight, but they beat what's on the surface."

"What's on the surface?"

"Kid, you don't want to know. But you can use those tunnels to get just about anywhere in DC. And if you ever need to find a place to rest, go to Underworld."

"Underworld?"

"The city of ghouls. It's in one of the old pre-war museums on the Mall. A lot of the tunnels lead to that area, it's hard to miss. Talk to Carol, she'll help ya."

"There's really a city of ghouls?"

"Yep, that's where I used to live. Carol was kind of like my mother. I miss it there, but I had left to find my own way in life. Of course, I ended up here."

"Do the other ghouls know you're here?"

"Doubt it. I know where you're going with it. If they knew I was here, there's nothing they could do. I'm on my own."

Chrys sighed. "You and me both." The ghoul sighed and looked at the dismayed girl.

"You're free. You can do something about it Chrys." Gob explained.

The blonde girl looked back at the ghoul and smiled. "One day you'll be free too Gob. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep kid." Gob said as he cleaned another glass.

"I always keep my promises." Chrys swore and crossed her heart. The bartender looked at her with a questioning and smug look. He smirked.

"A minute ago you were asking how you could keep a promise when you are incapable." Gob remarked.

The vault girl blinked, "You… you got a point."

"So what are you still doing here? Or are you just gonna contradict yourself?"


	4. Mall Muties

Disclaimer: Bethesda owns Fallout!

Damn this took forever to finish- sorry for taking months to update.

Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 3 – Mall Muties

_Chink! Crash! Clink!_

Chrys huffed with all the might her lungs and heart would allow, the air burned her throat but tasted fresh in comparison to the still metro tunnel air. Falling to her knees, she rested her head against the chain link fence she had just shoved closed in the attempt to flee the feral creatures living, if one could call it that, in the metros. After a moment she turned herself over and rested her back against the fence and fixed her glasses, making sure they were neatly placed back on her nose. Her gun, a newly acquired assault rifle, lay not too far from her feet and she was too exhausted to make a reach for it, so she resorted to lame kicks and shuffles from her feet to try and get it into arms reach. Suffice to say, no fruits bore for her efforts and she gave up and leaned her sweat-covered head back against the fence.

Sunlight beamed down from above, it had seemed like forever since she had actually seen it. Ambience from the metro lights reminded her of the Vault, and for a while she felt a nostalgic feeling wash over her as well as a calming feeling. Of course that was quickly shattered by her stumbling upon the residence of the tunnels. She thought they looked odd, but she thought they were regular ghouls, but no, they were feral. And her gun decided to jam at that moment, so that just made it all the better. Soon, she would need to find some parts to repair it and maintain it, but she had gotten the gun off of a downed Super Mutant that the Brotherhood of Steel had killed so how she would get another one was beyond her.

Those mutants though… they were gigantic. She never would have thought something like those existed, especially that one that the Brotherhood knights called a "behemoth". That one, that one took the snack-cake. It had to be around twelve feet tall or somewhere along those lines, she honestly thought it would kill them all. Lyons, the commanding officer, had instructed Chrys to use a Fat Man to take out the behemoth. Luckily it worked, but now Chrys knew there was a weapon that could shoot miniature nuclear bombs, and that left a queasy feeling in her gut. The patrol had lost one man, but they honored his commitment and courage to the Brotherhood.

Through that patrol she was able to reach GNR, however, Three Dog, the disc jockey, had decided to play an eye-for-an-eye game with her. If she could fix the satellite dish on top of the Washington Monument, then he would tell her where her dad went. At least he knew her dad and knew where he went. Thank God.

Sadly, his warning that there were a lot of mutants in the Mall, this place she was now, was not given for the metro tunnels as well. _'Thanks a lot Three Dog.'_ She thought as she took a drink of water from one of the few purified waters she had left.

_BAM!_

"AH SHIT!" Chrys cursed and scrabbled away from the fence. Quickly, she grabbed her broken gun and aimed it towards the fence. One of the feral creatures had become aware of her presence and had managed to drag itself toward the fence, apparently it was not as afraid of the light compared to the other ones. It stood there hissing and flailing at her and the fence that kept it from its meal. Chrys sighed and lowered her gun. Shooting it would be pointless with the fence in the way and there was no way the zombie creature was intelligent enough to find a way to open the gate.

"You scared me." Chrys huffed as she brought herself to her feet and stood eye-level to the zombie creature. It stared at her and made more hissing and grunting noises. Chrys hung her head, "I'm so lonely I'm talking to a zombie who wants to kill me. God, how can this get any worse?"

After collecting all her materials she hoisted her backpack back onto her shoulders and did her best to see if she could get her rifle back into working condition- no luck. With a damaged rifle and less-than-hopeful mentality, she trudged up the steps from the metro entrance and out to the main area of the Mall. It was vast and open despite being littered with rubble and the occasional corpse or two. Its perimeter buildings showed signs of major withering and decay, but despite that they looked in decent shape compared to most other buildings inside the DC ruins. Their architecture was probably built to last many years… or the buildings were just lucky (if it is possible to say a building is lucky). With another once over, she noticed the indents in the central field. From what she remembered of history class, the indents were trenches- commonly used in war. However, these trenches looked a little too big for human use, which made the possibility of their builder very disheartening.

_'It's okay. There aren't any mutants nearby, and maybe they didn't dig those trenches or they're abandoned. Yeah that's a g__ood possibility!'_ She thought as she sporadically scanned the area for the yellow-skinned mutants. Nothing: which frightened her even more. Steeling herself, Chrys kept to the perimeter of the Mall and hugged the buildings in order to avoid the center as little as possible and hopefully any unseen mutants. The rubble of automobiles and various building structures made it hard to navigate in a straight line, but after a few moments she realized she wasn't actually sure _where_ she trying to actually go.

Bringing up her Pipboy, she saw that the Museum of Technology was on the parallel opposite side of the Mall that she was currently on… which meant she would have to cross the trenches to get to her destination faster. She looked on ahead and found that the trench field ended before the grand spire that stood in the center of the Mall. That had to be the Washington Monument that Three Dog told her about. If she could manage it, she could get to there on this side and cut across, avoiding the trenches. Nevertheless, she still was severely under-armed to combat anything she might find on the other side. From the looks of it, there was an encampment of Brotherhood knights (Three Dog said there would be a group outside the tower), but the likelihood that they would have supplies to offer her was not in her favor.

_Clink!_

With a gasp, Chrys turned and aimed her gun in the direction of the sound. Up ahead on her right was a pile of three cars and at the top sat a zombie creature… but one that wore clothes. From the looks of it, it was female. She sat staring at Chrys and held her hands up out of surrender.

"Don't… don't shoot." The creature's raspy voice pleaded. It took a moment but Chrys came to realize that this was a female ghoul.

"You… you aren't like those things in the metros… Are you?" Chrys inquired, gun still raised. The ghoul sighed and dropped her hands.

"You kidding me? Do I look like one of those feral ghouls? I realize I have no skin, but really there are differences between us and ferals!" the girl ghoul ranted as she made her way off the car pile.

Chrys lowered her gun, "Ferals?"

"Yeah, those 'things in the metros.'" The girl said with air quotes, "They're ghouls, but their brains have degraded so much that they mindlessly kill anything… I think. Well they don't attack normal ghouls, but I'm sure they'll kill you."

Chrys stared at the girl blinking a few times in shock- those things weren't aggressive towards normal ghouls? What about other mutants?

The girl ghoul nervously wrung her hands and started to back away. "Look, nice chatting with you, but I need to get back home… before I'm missed."

"Wait. Do you know a place I could go to for supplies?" Chrys asked, but her voice sounded as if it was begging.

The ghoul rubbed her wrists, "Well… I do run a shop at Underworld, so I have supplies there."

"… then why are you out here?" Chrys asked.

"Uh… well… I snuck out to do some… scavenging." The girl said, flashing an innocent smile. She then sighed and hung her head, "I'm pretty young, and the older ghoulettes don't like it when I go out on my own, so I thought I'd give going out on my own for once a go. I also was hoping to meet up with Quinn… he's a trader that comes to Underworld every other week. I thought I'd meet up with him in advance and discuss… trade and… deals… and stuff."

It was pretty obvious there was more to the young ghoulette's motives than that, but Chrys did not delve further. "So can I trade supplies with you back at your place?"

"Uhhh… well… I'd like to, but… Do you really want to go in a city of ghouls? You _are_ a smoothskin." The ghoulette asked.

"A friend of mine told me about this… uh… city… he said as long as I'm courteous and don't act like a 'pompous ass', I'd be fine. I hope that's true… Is it?" Chrys asked.

"I suppose. We just don't get many smoothskin visitors. Most of the time they turn and leave once they take a step through the doors. So… I guess just don't be a bigot and you'll be fine." The ghoulette shrugged.

Chrys felt herself beam a bit, "Great! You'll have no problem from me!"

"For your sake, I hope you are right. Now come on, I haven't had a customer in ages!" The ghoulette beamed with happiness and started to walk on ahead. Chrys smiled and followed her rough-skinned guide down the Mall perimeter. After a couple minutes Chrys's Pipboy beeped and she checked the map to see a marker labeled "Museum of History" had appeared. She remembered Gob saying that's where Underworld was located. At that instant, she heard some strange noises.

"Hey. May I ask you a question?" Chrys asked.

"Sure, of course." The ghoulette said, looking over her shoulder at Chrys.

"How long have those trenches been abandoned?" Chrys asked.

"Abandoned? Those trenches have never been abandoned."

Chrys gulped, "Then… who uses them?"

The ghoulette froze and her eyes widened. Her fear-filled stare focused on something behind Chrys. Even though she knew it wouldn't be good, Chrys glanced over her shoulder to see charging mutants armed with guns and planks of wood lined with nails. _'It just got worse.'_

"RUN!" Chrys shouted and shoved the ghoulette forward. The ghoulette charged off ahead and Chrys followed after her. She didn't even bother to try and shoot at them with her jammed gun, not when it was obvious that theirs were in much better condition.

Exhausted and terrified, the two sprinted for the museum coming into sight ahead, their feet pounding, but any noise their footfalls produced was drowned out by the boom of the mutants' footsteps behind them, and they were getting close.

In a split second, the ghoulette dropped. Chrys skidded and turned to see the ghoulette had gotten her foot caught in a sort of mundane trap. Without thinking Chrys knelt down and quickly made to undo the trap, surprising its ghoul captive. In a quick move, the trap uncoiled, but slashed Chrys' leg, leaving a considerable gash. Once clear, the ghoulette scrabbled up and tried to help Chrys up, shock of Chrys' intervention still lined her face.

"Forget it. Go!" Chrys shouted, unable to move quickly thanks to the gash.

With dread plastered on her skinless face, the ghoulette turned and charged on toward the museum. Slowly and steadily, Chrys followed suit, but knew that since she had lost the considerable lead that they had on the mutants, it was moot to try and run. The ghoulette might make it, but not so much for Chrys herself, especially with the gash inhibiting her run speed.

A quick glance showed a mutant with a nail board was closest to her and had begun to charge even faster towards her.

'_I guess this is it… I'm sorry Dad.'_

She turned away, still trying her best to run.

In an instant a great force collided with her from behind and she felt weightless as pain surged through her back. She knew she was flying even though her eyes were shut, but it she didn't black out until she fell back to Earth, colliding with something metal on impact.

"HELP! HELP!" Tulip cried as she burst through the doors of Underworld. "PLEASE HELP!"

The ghoul residents in the plaza turned their heads toward her, some stood, most didn't move any more than they already had. Tulip's panic escalated at the lack of reaction.

"Please! They're going to kill her!" Tulip pleaded as Winthrop made his way to her.

"Calm down Tulip. Who's going to kill who?" He asked, placing a hand on each of the younger ghoulette's shoulders.

"The Super mutants! They're going to kill a smoothskin girl I found outside! She helped me out of a trap! We have to help her! Please Winthrop!" Tulip pleaded and grabbed the jumpsuit the ghoul wore and shook him slightly.

"Is Willow out there?" Winthrop asked, already pretty sure that the unofficial guard of the museum would already be assisting (or not) in some way.

"She can't take three mutants on her own!" Tulip cried.

Winthrop looked up at the ceiling with a strained look. _'Three mutants… damn t__here's only one guy who could handle that… shit.'_ He turned his attention to the double doors of his least favorite room of the Underworld.

Tulip made a pitiful whine. Sighing, Winthrop forced Tulip off of him and headed for the doors.

What he shouted next garnered him more attention than all of Tulip's pleas and shouts, "Ahzrukhal!"

"… what the?"

Black.

"Fu…"

Black.

"… let you go…"

Black.

"Put… here…"

Black.

"Talk to…"

Black.

It went like that for a long while. She always thought that dying meant there would be a white light and angelic voices beckoning her to heaven. Instead, it sounded like raspy ghoul voices and looked like nothing but pitch black nothing.

And it hurt. It hurt excruciatingly bad.

After some time her eyes felt okay enough to open. Gingerly they lifted and Chrys was met with the sight of an old ceiling.

_'Where am I?'_ she thought as she tried to move her head. Pain shot through her neck and head in response.

"Gah!" she groaned. Her noise attracted someone however. A ghoul came into view. He wore a bloody shirt and it looked like he might wear glasses. It was hard to tell since Chrys obviously was not wearing her own glasses.

"So you're finally awake. Took you long enough, but I got to hand it to ya…" there was a small rustling of objects, "… being bitch slapped by a super mutant leaves most people in much worse positions. Most of the time… I don't even waste the supplies."

"Wha?" Chrys sounded, unable to articulate a fool sentence.

"But I guess you were lucky. Tulip made sure you got help. You owe her. Willow too I guess. And… well I don't envy you having to owe him." The ghoul continued as Chrys felt a sharp prick in her arm. She winced.

"Come on smoothskin. You just got backhanded by a super mutant, flew ten feet, and hit a mailbox. A shot cannot be worse than that." The ghoul chuckled halfheartedly.

"Gl… Glasses?" Chrys asked. With all the other things wrong, she was pretty sure being able to see where she was would help in solving most her other questions.

"Oh… yeah. Here." Her glasses were wiggled onto her face by the ghoul and it took a second for the world to come into focus. The ghoul standing above her was the first thing she noticed. He wore a bloodied white shirt and he had glasses that somehow stayed on his head when he lacked a nose. He had a blank look on his face. He moved to help her sit up on the gurney she had been lying on.

"Thank you." Chrys breathed as she swung her aching legs over the side.

"Again, thank Tulip most of all. I'm still gonna charge you." The doctor ghoul said as he examined her.

Chrys' stomach dropped. "I'd love to compensate for your services… but I don't have a lot of caps. It might not be enough, but I'll give you what I have."

The doctor gave her a quick glance and then went back to checking her reflexes. Another ghoul, this one a ghoulette, appeared with a tray of supplies. She didn't look as welcoming as the ghoulette that Chrys had meet outside (apparently named Tulip). She set the tray down on one end of gurney.

"Barrows, we need to purchase some more stimpaks. This smoothskin exhausted half of our supply." She spoke after a minute.

Barrows huffed, "Good thing we can heal from radiation. Otherwise we'd be fucked."

"Still would be best to acquire some more stimpaks." The ghoulette, who Chrys figured to be a nurse, stated.

"Well Winthrop has some don't he?" Barrows said.

The nurse twitched a bit. "I guess, but we have no scrap metal to trade with him."

"I have some in my pack. You can have it… uh scrap metal that is." Chrys piped up. "Well… there are stimpaks too, if you want them."

The nurse looked Chrys up and down, then gave something akin to a chuckle. "I think you need those stimpaks more than we do based on what I've seen of you Vault girl. But, if you're serious about the scrap metal, I'll take it off your hands."

"Guess that covers some payment." Barrows said as he finished his tests. Chrys sighed in relief.

"Thanks Doctor Barrows." Chrys said. She glanced at the nurse, "And thank you too… uhm."

"Graves." The nurse stated as she bent over Chrys' backpack which was settled in the corner of the room.

"Graves, thanks." Chrys finished.

After being given her clothes, and helped into them by Graves, Chrys fetched her now lighter pack and fished the caps out to present them to Barrows. He took them without a word.

"You'll feel sore after the Med-X I hit you with earlier wears off. I suggest by then you check out a room at Carol's where you can sleep. Trade some of your junk at Tulip's store for some caps to afford the room." Barrows nonchalantly explained as he pocketed the caps.

"Thanks again Doc." Chrys said with a smile. She was even more thankful for the advice.

The Vault girl left the room and found herself in a greater room with a second level and a strange statue situated in the middle of the base floor. Ghouls and ghoulettes walked about talking, laughing, or staring at her. Chrys felt like a fish out of water again.

She made her way to the doors at the front where fewer ghouls were congregated. Once there, the large doors opened from the outside and a ghoul wearing an apparently common trader outfit stepped through the doors. He looked at her with a questioning look. He shrugged and walked past her up one of the staircases and entered a pair of double doors on the right side of the room. Chrys found a place to set her bag down and started to sort through her bag to see what there was to trade.

"Hey you're alive!" a raspy voice called from behind her. Chrys turned to see a ghoul approaching her wearing a faded blue jumpsuit. When he got close he stopped and crossed his arms. "When you were brought in, I was pretty sure you were a goner. I bet there are a bunch of unhappy betters here in Underworld. Way to prove them wrong… just don't go making a habit of being slapped by mutants."

Chrys couldn't help but laugh, "I must have looked pretty God awful."

"For a smoothskin yeah." He said. "I'm Winthrop by the way." He offered his hand.

"Chrys Winchester." She responded and shook his hand. When their gesture finished Chrys looked around to see if Tulip was anywhere.

"She'll be in her shop over there." Winthrop pointed over his shoulder to a door on the base floor on the left. "You'll want to thank her and Willow too."

"Willow?" Chrys asked.

"She's our… watchman I guess you could say. She walks around outside and greets those who come to the museum. She shot at the mutants who tried to get to your unconscious ass." The ghoul explained. "Calls everyone a tourist."

Chrys was shocked. If that was the case then that one ghoulette took on three super mutants by herself. That was definitely no easy feat and worthy of praise and thanks. _'__She must be pretty good with combat.'_

Winthrop coughed, "Willow didn't exactly kill the mutants though."

Chrys' eyes widened. "Are they still outside fighting!?"

"No. Those bastards are dead as can be. Shotgun shots meeting heads doesn't leave a pretty sight." Winthrop explained.

"Wait… so who killed them?" Chrys asked, "Was it that trader?"

"Quinn? Quinn couldn't kill one of those things to save his own ass. Good thing they leave us alone when we aren't mixed with smoothskins." Winthrop chuckled a bit, but his demeanor soon went somber. "No. Charon killed them."

"Charon?" Chrys asked.

"Listen, he doesn't need your thanks, so don't try and thank him. He does not give a damn. It's best you stay away from him." Winthrop said in a hushed voice.

"How… how did he kill them all?" Chrys asked, slightly amazed still, but Winthrop's warning started to make her feel afraid of her apparent savior.

"Not sure, didn't see. That's just Charon for ya. The son of a bitch can do what he's asked to do, and he delivers without question. Violence just seems to be his forte… in fact I'm pretty sure it is." Winthrop said.

At that moment the doors on the right side of the second level, the ones that Quinn had disappeared into earlier, opened. Chrys glanced up to see Quinn exiting with a bottle of amber liquid in hand. The ghoul that followed after him made Chrys gasp… most likely out of fear.

It was large ghoul. He was tall and muscular, yet he looked stiff in movement. He donned rough leather armor and carried a shotgun on his back. He had to be at least six and a half feet tall. He was definitely the tallest person she had seen… short of the super mutants. He had some tufts of what appeared to be red hair, and he had more hair than most ghouls did. He was intimidating and his demeanor was unreadable… as if there was actually nothing there. He was a blank book in a sense with a horrific cover.

Quinn and the fearsome ghoul walked by Chrys and Winthrop on their way to doors that led out to the rest of the museum. Quinn turned and raised a hand in greeting to Winthrop, "Hey Winthrop. Got to go pick up a heavy load of booze for Ahzrukhal."

Winthrop raised a hand in response, "You mean _he's_ picking up that heavy load for Ahzrukhal." He gestured to the large ghoul.

"You get what I mean." Quinn said as he down a bit of the liquid from the bottle. Quinn passd and the other ghoul followed suit. His movement breaking its rhythm when he passed her and his eyes shot in her direction, looking her dead in the eyes. His pale blue stare made her blood run cold and she felt herself shiver. His eyes were like ice and they betrayed no emotion.

She remained frozen well after they had disappeared past the doors. Winthrop watched her with an amused expression.

"Blood feels like ice?" he asked the petrified girl.

She nodded.

"Feels like you're gonna be sick?" he asked.

She nodded again.

"Feel so damn afraid that you just might shit yourself?" he asked last.

She (reluctantly) nodded.

Winthrop let out a dry chuckle.

"I know the feeling." He said as he scratched the back of his head. "Well congratulations. You've just met Charon."


End file.
